


Crazy For You

by cassiewrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, First Kiss, M/M, Marvel Universe, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2144070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiewrites/pseuds/cassiewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weeks after Steve realizes his best friend, Bucky, has been brainwashed by the Nazi organization HYDRA and turned into a deadly assassin, Bucky returns to New York to find Steve and tell him one thing:<br/>"I remember."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crazy For You

 

_1941_

 

 

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“That’s what you keep telling me, so it must be true,” Bucky tells Steve.

They’re sitting in the living room of their dingy little apartment in Brooklyn that they can barely afford, the rain tapping against the windows. Steve is filling a bag with ice to put on Bucky’s stupid face because he had to go and start another fight he knew he couldn’t finish.

Bucky spits some blood into a napkin. “But you shoulda seen the other guy, Steve.”

“Yeah? Seven feet tall, not a scratch on him?” Steve smirks.

“Sounds about right.” Bucky winces as Steve presses the ice to his face a little too firmly.

His lip is split open, along with his knuckles, and he’s got a nasty bruise on his cheek that’s already looking kind of yellowish-purple.

Steve sighs, wrapping a wet towel around Bucky’s knuckles. “What was it about this time?”

Bucky shrugs. “The guy said I couldn’t take him in a fight.”

“Well, you sure showed him!” Steve laughs.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up, wise guy.”

The room is quiet for a moment, though the rain continues to pour.

“You’re gonna get yourself in real trouble one day, Buck,” Steve laments.

“Trouble’s my middle name, Rogers,” Bucky replies with a fat lip.

“I mean it, Bucky,” Steve asserts. “That hothead of yours ain’t as charming as you think. You start something with the wrong crowd and they won’t be as easy on you as this guy was.”

Bucky takes the ice off his face. “Aren’t I the one that’s supposed to be worrying about you?”

“You kidding me? I can take anything life throws at me. I’m ninety pounds of pure muscle.” Steve holds up his small arms like Popeye, flexing his nonexistent muscles.

They both laugh until Bucky’s laughs turn into painful groans. He lifts up his shirt to reveal a big bruise on his side.

Steve wants to reach out and graze his fingers along the purple mark, but he holds back. “Geez, Buck...”

“Oh, it’s fine. It just hurts when I breathe, no big deal,” Bucky says casually, with a hint of sarcasm.

“You don’t have to worry about me, though, Steve,” Bucky continues. “I can handle myself just fine, enough for the both of us. We’re gonna stick together no matter what, right?”

Steve smiles. “Of course.”

Bucky pats a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Then we’re gonna be okay, you and I, fighting together until the end of the line.”

 

-

 

_Present Day_

 

 

“I remember.”

Steve jumps off the couch and onto his feet fast enough to give a normal person whiplash. He didn’t even realize there was anyone in his apartment until he heard them speak, which is a nearly impossible feat in itself. He’s a super soldier, for christ’s sake, he’s supposed to hear a pin drop during a cocktail party. Maybe he shouldn’t have fixed the squeaky front door hinges last week.

What he sees when he turns around is not a deadly assassin poised to kill him, but instead, Bucky Barnes, a deadly assassin who was also once his best friend and hopefully not poised to kill him. Bucky Barnes, a man Steve hasn’t seen since he fell out of a helicarrier.

Steve has heard rumors that S.H.I.E.L.D. found him and has been trying to rehabilitate him, but he didn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe it until now.

“Buck?” Steve asks, tentatively, muscles still clenched.

“I remember,” Bucky says. He’s soaking wet, his long hair dripping all over Steve’s new rug, which shouldn’t bother him right now, but it does. It’s a nice rug, he just got it from Pottery Barn.

Steve suddenly realizes what Bucky just said. “You...remember?”

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” he says, lifting his gaze to meet Steve’s. The room is dimly lit, but Steve can tell that Bucky’s eyes are rimmed red, and the wetness on his cheeks might not be from the rain.

“Oh, my God,” Steve says, racing toward Bucky as his knees give out and he begins to collapse. Steve helps Bucky onto the couch and sits on the cushion next to him.

“I didn’t know where I was going until I got here,” Bucky says quietly.

Steve pauses. “How did...how do you even know where I live?”

Bucky runs a hand through his hair—his real hand, not the metal one. “Remember that time I shot Nick Fury through your window?”

“Oh. Right.” Steve says. “Bucky...what do you remember?”

“Everything. I remember that my name is James Buchanan Barnes and I was born March 10th, 1917, in Brooklyn, New York. I remember when my parents died. I remember when you were just a punk kid who didn’t know how to throw a punch, and I remember you were my best friend.” Bucky looks down at his hands. “I also remember all the people I killed that didn’t deserve to die.”

“That wasn’t you,” Steve replies.

“But it _was_ , Steve.” Bucky says, his voice cracking. “It was all me. I remember doing it and I remember not giving a damn about any of their lives.”

“It was HYDRA, Buck!” Steve says sternly. “They were controlling you, you know that. No one thinks you did those things on your own free will.”

“But it was still me. It was my finger pulling the trigger, it was my hands around your throat—”

Steve cuts him off before he can add to the list of offenses. “But you never would’ve done those things if HYDRA hadn’t brainwashed you, you know that. You’re not a bad person.”

Bucky looks at Steve, eyebrows furrowed. “Then why do I feel like a villain?”

Steve wants to shake Bucky by his shoulders and tell him that he’s good, that there’s not a bad bone in his body, Steve wants to shake him until he believes that, but he knows he can’t do that. Bucky is stubborn as hell, he’s gonna believe whatever he wants. If he won’t listen, Steve is going to have to show him that he’s good. Somehow.

Steve wrings his hands and asks, “Bucky...what happened after the helicarrier crashed?”

“I ran,” Bucky says, matter-of-factly. “Whatever happened on that helicarrier...whatever you did, it triggered a spark in my brain. That spark kept spreading and I kept remembering new things and it was overwhelming. I think I blacked out and when I woke up I remembered everything.”

Steve nods along. “Sam said they found me on the shore of the lake. You pulled me out, didn’t you?”

Bucky licks his lips. “I guess I did, yeah. It’s all kind of a blur.”

“Well, thank you, anyway.” Steve clears his throat. “So, did you go to S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Actually, they found me. After I woke up, I found myself going to the Captain America Exhibit at the Smithsonian and someone must have recognized me, because there was a group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents waiting for me outside. I’m still not too keen on secret organizations watching over me, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” Bucky flicks a piece of hair out of his eyes.

Steve pats a hand on his knee. “They’ll help you, Bucky. I’ll make sure of it. Now that I know where you are, I’ll be able to help you, too.”

“You’d help me?” Bucky asks, looking at Steve with big puppy-dog eyes. “After I tried to kill you?”

Steve huffs a laugh. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve been saying, Bucky? You’re my friend, I know you wouldn’t try to kill me if you had any choice in the matter. At least, I hope not.”

Bucky smiles, and it’s the first time Steve’s seen that smile in seventy years.

“So, do you want something to drink? Do you want to dry off?” Steve asks eagerly.

“You’re still a pretty old fashioned guy, aren’t you, Steve?” Bucky smirks.

Steve gets up to get Bucky something to dry off with anyway. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with some old fashioned manners and hospitality. I think this generation could use a little more of it.

Bucky laughs. “You sound like an old man.”

Steve hands Bucky a towel and says, “Well, I am, technically. You’re even older than me, though.”

Bucky rubs the towel through his hair quickly. “Yeah, but you were always the more noble of the both of us. I guess that’s why they made you Captain America.”

Steve shrugs. “I just got lucky.”

“And of course, he’s humble, too,” Bucky says dramatically.

Steve is glad to see that Bucky still has a sense of humor after all the brainwashing he endured. He was afraid that if Bucky ever came back—his Bucky, the real Bucky—that he would act like some mindless robot. But here he is, sitting in Steve’s living room as if nothing’s changed in seventy years.

Steve’s cell phone rings just as he’s about to go see what he has in his fridge (not a lot, he already knows.)

Someone speaks before he can even say hello. “ _Cap? It’s Agent Hill. Sorry to call so late._ ”

Steve looks at the time on his microwave. 12:56. “Oh, it’s fine. I didn’t even realize how late it is. Is something wrong?”

“ _Well, possibly. James Barnes is missing.”_

_Oh no,_ Steve thinks. “Uh...hasn’t he been missing for quite a while?”

“ _No—I mean, yes, but last week we found him and he’s been staying at S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters since then. We weren’t exactly holding him captive, but we would’ve preferred that he stayed. He may still be a threat. So, I thought he might try to find you. Have you seen him?”_ She sounds like she’s not trying to panic but failing at it.

“Uh, can you hold on a minute, Maria?” Steve says into the phone. He looks over at Bucky and hisses, “You escaped S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters?!”

“Umm...” Bucky says, looking guilty.

“Bucky!” Steve almost shouts.

“I’m sorry! I got bored!” Bucky says, throwing his hands up.

“ _Cap?”_

Steve sighs and puts the phone to his ear again. “Yeah, he’s here, Maria.”

Bucky follows him into the kitchen and leans against the counter, a worried look on his face.

Maria breathes a sigh of relief. _“Oh, good. Is he...”_

Steve glances at Bucky, looking like a teenager who got caught sneaking out. “He’s not a threat.”

“Sounds like they have total faith in me,” Bucky mumbles.

“ _Okay, I’ll call a car to come pick him up.”_

“No, it’s fine. He can stay here.” Bucky gives him an apologetic smile.

“ _Really? It won’t be an issue to find a car at this hour,”_ she says, obviously not thrilled at the idea of a deadly assassin having a sleepover with a beloved national hero.

“I’m sure. Get some sleep, Maria.”

“ _I haven’t slept since I became deputy director,”_ she says, and from the sound of her voice he might believe her.

“Goodnight, Commander.” Steve hangs up the phone—metaphorically, of course, because for some reason S.H.I.E.L.D. insisted on giving a man from the 1940’s an iPhone and expecting him to understand how to use it.

Steve turns around and finds Bucky looking at the ceiling, whistling softly.

“Tell me,” Steve says, “How does one escape S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters?”

“Very carefully,” Bucky replies with a cocky smirk. “So, I can stay?”

“Just for tonight.” Steve tries to sound stern, like he’s scolding Bucky, but there’s no hiding that he’s happy to see his best friend.

Bucky hops up to sit on Steve’s counter. “I feel like a child of divorce.”

“You’re acting like one,” Steve jokes.

Bucky kicks his legs back and forth. “Maybe they’ll let me visit on weekends. Won’t that be swell, Pa?”

Bucky still has that sarcastic wit that Steve can’t help but laugh at. Bucky’s grin turns into a yawn.

Steve leans against the fridge. “It’s late. You can sleep in my bed.”

Bucky hops off the counter. “I’m fine with the couch. It’s probably a lot more comfortable than the cot they’ve got for me back at S.H.I.E.L.D..”

“But you’re my guest—” Steve insists.

“Okay, you’re not going to give up, so why don’t we just share the bed.” Bucky gives him a questioning look.

Steve finally agrees and shows Bucky to the bedroom. The whole apartment is pretty small, but Steve doesn’t care. He’s never needed much room.

“I thought I had some clean clothes, but I haven’t done laundry in a while, I guess...”

“Glad I’m not going commando, then,” Bucky quips.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed and pulls off his boots. He slides them under Steve’s bed like he did when he was back in the military. Old habits die hard.

Steve goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and he can’t help but watch Bucky in the mirror while he does.

Bucky takes off his jacket and hangs it on the edge of a chair, then unzips his jeans and folds them onto the chair as well.

Steve washes off his toothbrush and walks in as Bucky is pulling off his henley. Bucky catches Steve staring and says, “The arm is a little much, right?”

“Huh?” Steve had barely noticed the cybernetic arm attached in place of Bucky’s left. He was too focused on the six-pack that HYDRA probably designed for him, too.

Bucky looks down at the arm and says, “It’s a little too shiny for my taste. Couldn’t HYDRA have given me something a little less flashy?”

Steve raises an eyebrow.“Have you _seen_ my Captain America uniform?”

Bucky nods, chuckling. “Yeah, you win, Cap.”

Bucky lays back onto the mattress with a content sigh. “ _Oh, yeah._ This is what a real bed feels like. What is this, memory foam? Snazzy.”

Steve starts to undress, and it isn’t until he has his pants completely off that he realizes what he’s wearing underneath them.

Bucky bursts out laughing. “Are those _Hulk boxers?_ ”

“They were a gift!” Steve says, but he knows there’s really no good explanation.

“From _who?_ ” Bucky wheezes.

“...Tony,” Steve groans. Bucky laughs again. “I told you I haven’t done laundry in a while.”

“Do you have the rest of the set, too? Do they make ones with your S.H.I.E.L.D. right over the crotch?” Bucky taunts.

Steve nods along. “Okay, okay, Steve is a dork, now shove over.”

Bucky moves over and makes room for Steve, but they both seem to have forgotten that they’re both huge muscley super soldiers trying to fit into a queen sized bed.

“Uh, maybe I should go sleep on the couch...” Bucky says.

“Buck, I don’t think either of us could fit on that couch, truth be told.” Steve tells him. “Anyway, we can just...angle ourselves.”

Steve turns out the light and slides into bed next to Bucky. Steve lays with his back facing Bucky, and they just happen to be pressing against each other.

“I think this is what the kids these days call _spooning,_ ” Bucky teases, voice low and close to Steve’s ear.

Steves smiles slightly. “I’m glad you’re back, Bucky.”

“Glad to be back, Steve.”

 

-

 

Steve wakes up with a metal hand around his throat.

His eyes fly open and he grabs at the arm desperately, trying to pry the fingers off his neck.

“Bucky!” Steve chokes out.

He looks into Bucky’s eyes and knows his friend isn’t the one doing this. His eyes are cold and dark, he has the same look on his face as the day he did in that helicarrier.

_You’re my mission._

“Buck! This—not _you!_ ” Steve chokes again. “Look-t’me!”

Bucky’s eyes flick over to Steve’s, wild and desperate and starting to lose consciousness.

The grip around Steve’s neck loosens and Bucky jumps back, breathing hard.

“Oh my God,” Bucky mumbles.

By the time Steve catches his breath, Bucky is already grabbing his clothes and hurrying out the door.

“Wait!” Steve calls, running after him in his Hulk boxers.

But Bucky is already gone.

_Great, you get your best friend back and he tries to kill you in your sleep,_ Steve thinks.

Steve goes back to his bed, suddenly feeling empty without Bucky. The last thing Steve thinks before he finally falls back asleep is _Bucky forgot his shoes._

 

-

 

When Steve wakes up to do his morning jog, he checks his phone and sees that he has two unread texts. The first is from Agent Hill.

_Just wanted to let you know that Barnes was found outside Headquarters early this morning._

The second text is from an unknown number, but Steve knows who it’s from.

_I’m sorry._

 

-

 

“Bucky’s back?” Sam asks through heavy breaths. Even though Steve is running slower than usual, Sam is still having trouble keeping pace with him.

“I think so. Mostly. Except for one thing,” Steve says, jogging a little bit ahead of him.

“What’s that?” Sam huffs.

Steve tries to think of a way to say this delicately. “He kind of...tried to strangle me in my sleep.”

Sam stops in his tracks. “What?”

Steve slows down and stands with his hands on his hips. “It’s not his fault. I should’ve known there still might be some HYDRA kicking in him.”

“Oh, yeah, no big deal. My friends break into my apartment and try to kill me all the time,” Sam taunts.

“He didn’t...break in. He was already there.” Steve starts to walk away, but Sam runs in front of him.

“God, Steve, what was he? A late night booty call?” Sam asks suspiciously.

Steve squints at him. “A what?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Didn’t you ever look at that website I showed you with all the modern slang?”

Steve rubs his hands on his face. “Yes, but I saw some things I definitely didn’t want to know.”

Sam laughs just as Steve’s phone rings. Steve shoves at him playfully, but he underestimates his strength and Sam falls into a bush. Steve throws him an an apologetic look as he answers the phone.

“Hello?”

“ _Hey, Cap, it’s Agent Whitmore. We were wondering if you could stop by Headquarters later.”_

“Sure, is everything okay?” Steve says as he swats away Sam’s attempts at hitting him.

“ _Of course, we’re just running some tests on Barnes later and he requested you be there.”_

“Oh.” Steve was sure that Bucky would be avoiding him after last night.

“ _Will that be a problem?”_ Agent Whitmore asks.

“No, I’ll be there,” Steve assures him.

“ _Great. See you soon.”_

Steve puts his phone back in the pocket of the exercise armband that Sam got him.

Sam gives up on trying to push Steve over and asks, “What’s up?”

“I just have to go down to S.H.I.E.L.D. later.”

Sam stretches his knee toward his chest. “D’you want me come?”

“This something I have to do on my own,” Steve tells him, then runs ahead, yelling, “On your left!”

Sam mutters a profanity and sprints forward, still trailing behind him.

 

-

 

“Bucky?”

Bucky wakes up with a jolt and sees Steve towering over his cot. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and Bucky wonders if he’s still wearing the Hulk boxers underneath.

Bucky sits up and leans his head against the white brick wall. He’s pretty sure this room is just a holding cell they’ve unlocked and added a dresser to. It’s sure not anywhere he feels welcome.

Steve holds up a pair of boots and says, “You forgot your shoes.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Bucky takes the shoes and slides them under his cot. He notices a light bruise on Steve’s neck and suddenly wishes he’d never gone to see Steve at all.

“Are...are you okay?” Bucky asks, gesturing to his neck.

Steve grazes his finger along his throat and nods, “I’ll be fine. I’m Captain America, after all. I’ve gotten bruises a lot worse than this.”

“Yeah, and that was even before you were a super soldier,” Bucky says, with the hint of a smirk.

Steve sits on the edge of Bucky’s bed, the springs squeaking under his weight. “So, what kind of tests are they doing today?”

“I think they’re gonna take a better look at the technology in my arm,” Bucky tells him.

Steve glances down at Bucky’s metal arm and sees that his fist is clenched tight. “So...what did you want me here for? I mean, not that I don’t want to be here—”

“I just thought,” Bucky cuts off Steve’s rambling, “That the arm might act different around you. That might sound crazy, but it was created by HYDRA, and you were...you were my mission, and all.”

Steve looks at Bucky fondly. “No, I understand. It can’t hurt to try.”

There’s a knock on the door and Nick Fury appears on the other side. Steve didn’t expect to see him back at S.H.I.E.L.D. so soon, but it’s nice to see a familiar face.

“I see that you two have become reacquainted,” Fury says. “Why don’t we go start those tests, now.”

Steve and Bucky follow Fury through a series of hallways that leads to a room with glass doors and one recliner in the middle that looks like a dentist’s chair. Next to the chair is a small desk and a stool.

A woman wearing a dark lab coat with the S.H.I.E.L.D. insignia patched on the front comes in through a side door and smiles at them. She has long, dark hair, she’s probably in her early-thirties, and she has a pair of glasses hanging from her neck.

She shakes hands with Bucky and says, “Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Barnes. I’m Agent Cohen and I’ve heard so much about you and that fantastic arm of yours.”

“Agent Cohen works at S.H.I.E.L.D. creating prototypes for new weapons and bionic resources,” Fury says.

“I’ve been working on some new bionic prosthetics, and I thought that looking at your arm would give me some insight on how we can try to upgrade it,” Agent Cohen says while flipping through a folder.

Bucky purses his lips before saying, “Everything you just said kinda went over my head, but sure, have at it.”

She instructs him to have a seat and prop his arm up on the desk. She pulls some papers out of her folder and puts them on the desk next to him.

“I didn’t expect to see you here today, Captain Rogers,” Agent Cohen says. Steve’s not sure that he’s ever met her, but everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. knows who he is, so it’s not surprising.

“Yeah, well, Bucky had some...concerns,” Steve says. He’s hoping that he won’t have to inform S.H.I.E.L.D. about what happened last night. He doesn’t want Bucky to be seen as a threat anymore, or become some kind of lab rat they perform tests on all day.

She looks over at Bucky. “What kind of concerns?”

“Well,” Bucky begins, slowly, “I remember who I am. I also remember everything I did while I was being controlled by HYDRA. Even though I know who I am now, I feel like there’s still a part of me that they might be controlling.”

“And that part is your cybernetic arm?” Cohen asks.

“Yeah. And I think it might be triggered by Steve—Captain Rogers,” Bucky adds.

“Well, let me take a closer look and I’ll let you know if that’s a possibility.” Agent Cohen gestures toward the papers on the desk—they look like an x-ray of Bucky’s arm, but taken apart and spread out. “So, we took a look inside your arm and found that the technology is really quite amazing. We understand that your arm has an enhanced reaction time greater than that of any Olympic athlete that may ever exist. It is attached to your central nervous system and, technically, reacts to your thoughts before you can even finish thinking them. On top of all this, you were given a serum similar to the super soldier serum injected into Captain Rogers seventy years ago. Although, while Captain Rogers’ serum may only slight affect his aging, the serum you were given completely stopped your aging process. We have created a counteragent that will gradually continue your aging process, if you’d like to continue aging.”

Bucky takes a second to think about everything she’s said. He hadn’t even considered that he could live forever. Reflecting on all the stuff he’s done in just the past seventy years, he doesn’t want to know what trouble he could cause in an eternity.

Instead of vocalizing all that, Bucky puts on a confident guise and says, “It’s tempting to stay this handsome forever, but...eternal life sounds like it would get pretty boring after a while.”

“I don’t think there will ever be anything boring about a super soldier with a metal arm,” Steve remarks. Bucky shakes his head at Steve, smiling.

“I’ll have the lab prepare the serum,” Cohen says. “Can you take off your shirt?”

“You wanna buy me a drink first?” Bucky jokes. Steve actually snorts.

Agent Cohen cracks a smile, and says, “I just want to see where the bionic arm meets the shoulder.”

Bucky pulls off his shirt. Steve watches a little too intently. Cohen might watch a little too intently, too. Fury wants some pizza.

Cohen sits on the stool next to Bucky’s chair and puts on her glasses. She trails her fingers over the ridge where the metal meets the skin. “Ah, I see there’s thick scarring here from where the original arm detached, but the skin is healthy otherwise. I read your file, and, honestly, I’m surprised that the nerve endings were still viable enough to attach to the new arm,” She observes. She sees Bucky’s slightly confused expression and says, “That’s good, though. You’re pretty lucky.”

“Lucky that HYDRA dragged me out of the snow and turned me into a deadly weapon?”

Cohen’s eyes widen and she stammers, “Oh, no, I just meant-”

“Bucky,” Steve says gently, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Bucky says to Cohen. “I know you’re not a therapist.”

“Speaking of that,” Fury says, behind them, “We would like you to start therapy soon, as a part of your rehabilitation.”

Bucky pauses a moment as Cohen scribbles something on a clipboard and prods at his metal arm. “If you think it will help, sure, but how are you going to find a therapist who understands what I’ve been through?”

“After everything that’s happened in New York in the past few years, S.H.I.E.L.D. has therapists on file who have dealt with problems that didn’t exist a decade ago. I’m sure we’ll be able to find someone qualified enough for you,” Fury assures him. Bucky isn’t so convinced.

“Now, if you guys don’t need me,” Fury continues, “I’m gonna take my lunch break.”

Fury leaves and Cohen continues prying at Bucky’s arm. “Do you have any sensation in the arm?”

“Not exactly. I don’t really _feel_ things as much as _sense_ them.”

“Interesting...” Cohen says, then writes something else on the clipboard. “So, regarding your concerns about the arm’s....sentience, we should do an MRI scan. It won’t take more than an hour.”

Bucky agrees and they follow Agent Cohen to another room, because, of course, S.H.I.E.L.D. has its own MRI machine. Cohen explains to them that Bucky’s arm isn’t made of a metal that attracts magnets, so it should be safe to go through the MRI scanner. Bucky lays flat on his back as the table slides into the scanner.

Steve sits in a separate room with Agent Cohen as Bucky’s scan is performed.

“You don’t have to stay the whole time. You could go get a cup of coffee or something, if you’d like,” Cohen tells him.

“I can wait,” Steve says shortly, arms crossed.

They’re both quiet for a moment, then she says, “You must really care about him.”

Steve turns his head toward her, unsure of what to say. “I just want my friend back.”

“He’s already back, Captain,” she looks through the glass window at Bucky, lying motionless. “The fact that he remembers his own name, even after he’s been tortured and brainwashed, is a miracle in itself. In my professional opinion, he’s a fighter. There’s no way he’s giving up now.”

Steve smiles, looking over at Bucky. _I guess that stubborn attitude came in handy, after all._

Twenty minutes later, the scan is finished, and Steve and Bucky are hovering over the computer as Agent Cohen accesses the scans. She analyzes them for a few minutes, then starts to explain what she notices.

“Do you see these dark spots?” She asks, pointing toward one of Bucky’s brain scans. “These are areas that show high levels of violence and aggression, as well as antisocial tendencies. That sounds bad, but your brain looks much healthier than what I’d expected to see after decades of being under HYDRA control. I’m going to recommend that you come in once every few months to get your brain scanned, because with some therapy, rehabilitation, and a little help from your super soldier genes, I think your brain will heal quickly and the dark spots will shrink.”

Bucky stares at the computer screen for a few more moments. It looks like the majority of his brain is a dark spot, and he wonders how he’s even functioning right now.

“Now, about your concerns, I don’t think it’s possible that the arm is being controlled by anyone other than you. We scanned the technology for bugs and couldn’t find anything,” Cohen tells him. “I don’t want to make an impulsive diagnosis, but to me, it sounds like the symptoms of PTSD. It’s very common amongst veterans and could certainly apply to you after your sudden regaining of memory.”

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, tugging at his slightly. “So, what does that mean for me right now? Do I have to stay in that jail cell they’ve got me in now?”

Agent Cohen takes off her glasses and sits back in her chair. “We’re looking into finding you a new residence, but we’d prefer it be close-by so we can continue monitoring you.”

“And I don’t have any say in the matter?” Bucky asks, obviously frustrated.

“He can stay with me,” Steve offers. Bucky and Agent Cohen both give him a concerned look. “Who better to monitor a super soldier than another super soldier?”

Cohen sighs. She can tell by Steve’s expression and general demeanor that he really believes this is a good idea, and who’s she to deny Captain America? “I’ll make some calls.”

Steve smiles and puts an arm around Bucky’s shoulder. His expression says, _it will be fine,_ but Bucky doesn’t look so convinced.

“You hungry?” Steve asks.

Bucky is starving—S.H.I.E.L.D. food looks and tastes like elementary school cafeteria leftovers—but he just shrugs and says, “I could eat.”

After Cohen calls Fury and asks about Steve’s living arrangement idea, Fury signs off on a trial run with regular visits to Headquarters. Steve, all charm and manners, thanks Agent Cohen for her time, and then promises to show Bucky his favorite restaurant in New York.

They take the subway to Brooklyn (getting quite a few stares on the way there), and end up in front of a little shop with dusty brick walls and a rusty sign hanging above it that reads “Piero’s Pizzeria.”

When Bucky realizes where they are, a dumbstruck grin grows on his face. He turns to look at Steve, shaking his head. “You nostalgic son of a bitch,” he mutters.

“I take it you remember this place?” Steve says, looking pleased with himself.

“I can’t believe it’s still in business,” Bucky says, in awe. “We used to go here when we were just teenagers.”

Steve can’t hide his satisfaction. He wasn’t sure if Bucky would remember this place, but it means so much to him that he does. “I still say they’ve got the best slice in New York.”

When they walk inside, Steve is greeted by an elderly italian woman who kisses him on the cheeks delightfully.

“Your regular?” She asks Steve.

“That would be great, Carolina,” Steve replies.

She looks at Bucky oddly. “And for your friend?”

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” Bucky says.

As she strolls back into the kitchen, Bucky raises an eyebrow at Steve. “I’m guessing you come here often?”

There’s only a few other people in the restaurant, but Steve finds a table to sit at near the back. “It reminds me of home. It’s one of the last pieces of my past I can still hold onto.”

Bucky smiles gently, taking a seat across from Steve. “Well, now you’ve got me, too. Pizza and Bucky, what more could you ask for?”

Carolina brings out two plates with giant pieces of thin crust pizza hanging off the edges. It’s plain cheese with a few pieces of fresh oregano scattered on top.

“Enjoy!” She says cheerfully.

“I always do,” Steve banters.

Bucky folds the pizza in half and eagerly takes a bite out of it. He moans in pleasure as all the elements of a perfect pizza come together in his mouth. The crust is chewy, yet thin, and it has just the right amount of grease. The sauce is tangy and fresh. Strings of mozzarella hang from the pizza as he pulls it apart with his teeth.

Steve has almost forgotten about his own pizza, too busy watching Bucky have an orgasmic experience over an Italian dish.

“This is it,” Bucky says, eyes closed with a mouth full of pizza. “This is the meaning of life.”

“You never truly realize how important pizza is until you’ve gone seventy years without it,” Steve laughs, then continues, “You know, when they thawed me out of the ice, I had no idea where—or when—I was. All I knew was that I wanted a slice of real New York pizza from Piero’s Pizzeria. When I took that first bite, it was like nothing had changed. It took me back to 1941, you and I sitting in this very spot every Friday night. The only thing missing was you.”

Bucky pauses a moment, then shakes his head, “You’re cheesier than this pizza, Steve.”

“I’m just glad to have my best friend back,” Steve says earnestly.

Bucky wipes some grease from his mouth on the back of his hand and says, “Well, you don’t have to sound so sappy about it, because I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.”

When they both finish their pizza—which doesn’t take much time at all—Carolina comes back over to their table.

Steve starts to take out his wallet but Carolina insists, “No, no, it’s on the house for my favorite customer!”

Steve tries to convince her he’d really like to pay, but she’s set in her ways. He ends up leaving a fifty dollar tip on the table anyway.

After they leave the restaurant, Steve and Bucky walk around Brooklyn for a while, literally taking a trip down memory lane. Most of the memories are Steve getting beat up in alleys and Bucky saving his ass, but memories nonetheless. They walk past the street where their old apartment used to be, but it’s been knocked down and turned into a deli, which still looks about fifty years old.

It’s dark by the time they get back to Steve’s apartment. Steve still hasn’t done laundry, but has, at least, bought a new six-pack of boxer briefs at CVS.

Bucky wanders around Steve’s living room for a bit until asking, “Are you sure you want me to stay?”

“Of course,” Steve replies quickly. All he wants is a little piece of the past, like when they used to share that shabby little apartment. It feels like a lifetime ago—it might as well be.

“Steve...I tried to kill you last night,” Bucky says, unable to hide the overwhelming guilt in his voice.

Steve sits on the couch, pulling off his shoes. He replies casually, “You’re not the first person to try, and you won’t be the person to succeed.”

Bucky takes a deep breath and leans against the wall. Steve may trust him, but Bucky doesn’t trust himself.

Steve ambles over to Bucky and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Just relax, Buck. Go take a shower or something.”

Bucky looks up at him and sighs. “Fine.”

Twenty minutes later, Bucky steps out of the bathroom, steam pouring out behind him. Steve, lounging on his bed, looks up from his book and swallows hard. Bucky wears a towel draped around his waist, and his hair is still dripping, leaving trails of water droplets down his chest. He looks like he’s in a music video, for christ’s sake.

Steve suddenly realizes that he probably shouldn’t be feeling this way about his best friend, “this way” being the feeling that he wants to jump off the bed and kiss Bucky so hard he drops that stupid towel.

Steve has a second realization that this is kind of how he’s always felt, and it only took him seventy years to realize what this feeling is.

“You still haven’t done laundry, have you?” Bucky asks in a condescending tone.

“Huh?” Steve says, trying to drag his focus up to Bucky’s face. “Oh. Laundry. No. But-” Steve throws the new pack of underwear at him, “You can have those.”

“Gee, they didn’t have any Spider-Man ones?” Bucky pouts, then goes back into the bathroom to get changed.

Steve rolls his eyes and tries to go back to reading his book. He glances over when Bucky comes out, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs that barely leave anything to the imagination.

“So, about the sleeping arrangement...” Bucky begins, folding up his clothes.

“If it would make you more comfortable, I can sleep on the recliner in the living room,” Steve offers.

“Steve,” Bucky frets, “It’s your bed, I can sleep wherever.”

“Then I’m saying you should sleep in my bed,” Steve insists. “Anyway, this way I can catch you if you try to sneak out.”

“Okay, _Mom_ ,” Bucky teases. He fishes something out of the pocket of the jeans he was wearing earlier and wraps it around his wrist. The next time Steve looks up he sees Bucky with his hair in a bun. He can’t hold in his laughter.

“You’re one to laugh,” Bucky says, looking pointedly at the Hulk boxers in Steve’s hamper. “I don’t like sleeping with wet hair, okay?”

“Wait, wait, let me take a picture,” Steve says, scrambling for his phone. He grabs it before Bucky can wrestle it out of his hands. “S.H.I.E.L.D. might need this as evidence! This could be crucial information-” Bucky seizes Steve by the shirt and pushes him out the door, but he can still hear him laughing on the other side.

“Goodnight, Steve,” he calls.

Steve bangs on the door. “Wait, I need a blanket-”

“Goodnight!” Bucky calls again, snickering.

 

-

 

This is the second night in a row that Steve has received a rude awakening. At least this time he’s not being choked.

He hears a bang in the bedroom, like something falling over, and jolts toward the door. He finds Bucky writhing on the bed, covered in sweat and shouting nonsense. When Steve attempts to calm Bucky down from whatever nightmare or panic attack he’s having, Bucky shoves Steve hard enough that he makes a dent in the wall.

“Bucky, it’s me! It’s Steve!” He shouts. Bucky doesn’t respond, other than clenching his fists tighter.

Steve pushes himself off the wall and dives onto the bed. He straddles Bucky’s waist and manages to pin down his arms. “Please, Bucky,” Steve pleads, “Please, please wake up. It’s Steve. I’m with you till the end of the line, pal, I swear.”

Bucky suddenly stop struggling beneath Steve and opens his eyes slowly. Steve relaxes his grip on Bucky and looks down at him cautiously. Pieces of hair stick to Bucky’s clammy forehead, even as a worried crease forms between his eyebrows.

“Steve?” Bucky asks, breathing hard.“What ha-”

He’s cut off by Steve grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss.

Steve doesn’t know what overcomes him, the relief he feels that Bucky’s conscious, or the adrenaline pumping through his system, or the part of him that’s screaming he should’ve done this decades ago. Whatever it is, Steve knows he doesn’t want to stop, he wants to live in this moment for as long as he can.

Bucky sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t pull away. The mattress squeaks and aches under their weight as Steve kisses him harder, pushing him deeper into the pillows. Steve shivers as Bucky rakes his fingers up his back, especially at the cold, metal ones. Bucky combs through Steve’s short hair, tugging softly at the ends. Steve smells like soap and something else, probably patriotism.

Bucky, needing more, needing anything that will bring him closer to Steve, grinds his hips against Steve’s, moaning into his mouth. Steve drags his lips away from Bucky’s and rests his forehead on the pillow next to him.

“What is it?” Bucky says, voice low and gravelly.

“God, Buck,” Steve mumbles into the pillow. He sits up, still straddling Bucky, and rubs his hands over his face. “You make me feel like I’m fifteen again. I just—I gotta cool off.”

The moonlight streams through the blinds in strips, showing a hint of a smirk on Bucky’s lips. He runs his hands up Steve’s thighs and around his ass, tugging at the waistband on his briefs. In a split second, Bucky has Steve flipped over on the other side of the mattress. He lets his face hover over Steve’s for a moment before tilting his mouth down into a soft kiss. Bucky tugs on Steve’s bottom lip with his teeth and nuzzles kisses over his jaw, down his neck. He stops at the light bruise on Steve’s throat, the one that he caused, and grazes the pad of his thumb over it.

Steve reaches a hand onto Bucky’s face and murmurs, “It’s not your fault.” He draws Bucky’s lips toward his to show him he really means it.

Bucky doesn’t respond, only lays his head on Steve’s chest. Steve kisses the top of his head and his eyes begin to sag closed. Bucky falls asleep listening the steady beat of Steve’s heart.

 

-

 

Steve wakes up to the morning sun streaming directly into his eyes and Bucky’s metal arm wrapped around his waist, cool against his skin.

For the first time in a long time, Steve feels really, truly content.

He hears his phone buzz, but, of course, it’s on the other side of the bed. He tries to get up without waking Bucky, but finds that he can’t slip out of Bucky’s grasp.

“Um, Buck,” Steve says groggily. He nudges at Bucky’s leg with his feet and Bucky stirs awake.

“Hmm?” He grunts.

“I’m kind of trapped, here,” Steve says, patting his arm.

“Oh.” Bucky frees Steve from his grasp and sits up, yawning. His hair is down and messy, the bun having unraveled sometime during the night.

Steve picks up his phone and sees a text from Sam.

_No run this morning?_

Steve checks the time. It’s 8:30. By this time, Steve has usually eaten breakfast and taken a couple laps around Sam. He’ll make an exception for today.

“What’s up?” Bucky asks, stretching his arms over his head.

“Oh, nothing,” Steve says as he sends a quick text back to Sam with his big super soldier fingers, _“Not today) well run an extra mile tumor ow.”_

Steve crawls back into bed with Bucky and plants a slow kiss on his lips. Bucky pulls Steve into his lap, tracing circles onto his back as their lips crash together like waves in slow motion.

“This is nice,” Steve says, leaning his forehead against Bucky’s. “We should’ve done this a long time ago.”

Bucky smiles. “No, I’m glad it was now. Maybe this is life’s way of rewarding us for all the shit we’ve been through.”

“I guess you’re a pretty good consolation prize,” Steve kids.

Bucky shakes his head with a smirk. “You’re lucky I’m crazy for you. I wouldn’t have waited this long for anyone else.”

“Seventy years just flies by when you’re unconscious, doesn’t it?” Steve says. He nods his head down to kiss Bucky for a moment, raking his hands through Bucky’s wavy hair. He drags his lips over Bucky’s stubble and mutters softly into his ear, “You’re crazy for me, huh?”

Bucky hums in reply.

Steve leans back, looking Bucky in his big puppy-dog eyes tenderly. “I guess I’m pretty crazy about you, too."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wooo okay hello! This is the first Stevebucky fic I've ever written and actually the first thing I've finished writing in like two years wow. Sorry about any inaccuracies, I'm mostly trying to go by MCU canon though. I might try to write a second part so let me know if you liked this!! Thank you so much for reading my stevebucky trash and I hope you liked it and I'm in love with Bucky Barnes


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